this rule adhered to, and constant is the
vigilance necessary for carrying it out. For,
shameful to say, there is a section of the public
so basely purse-proud, so uneasy unless its
claims to the title of gentleman are incessantly
asserted by money payments, that they try in all
sorts of ways to force the servants of the
theatre to disobey the rules under which they
hold their offices. Men have even flung their
money down on the floor when it has been
respectfully declined by those who hold their
situations on condition of being able to resist
such cruel temptation.

How is it at other theatres? To begin with,
you pay a shilling when you take your place, to
secure its being kept for you, and, as if this was
not enough, the man who opens the door of that
box, a portion of which distinctly belongs to
you for that evening, thrusts a playbill in your
face, which, if you happen, in absence of mind
or momentary feebleness of character, to accept,
you are expected to pay for at the rate of
sixpence if you are a low, mean-spirited creature,
or one shilling if you are a gentleman. Should
you be, like the present writer, of the former
order of human beings, it will be your practice to
decline the bill, when you will find that the box-
opener is dull of comprehension and of hearing
on the subject, and that he will stand about the
box for some time to give you an opportunity of
repenting. After this he will open the door of
the box, in which we will say you have a fourth
row, as often as possible, to air your rheumatic
sholulder, and will, whenever it is possible for
subsequent arrivals to pass to their seats over
yours, give you the opportunity of rising to let
them go by.

Surely the keeper of the hotel or tavern gets
enough profit to pay his servants, or, if not, let
him charge for their services in the bill, and
turn away any waiter or chambermaid who takes
any additional money from his customers. Let
the railway companies act with the same vigour
and decision, and then perhaps, in the course of
time, even the uneasy snobs—who are never
happy unless they are flinging their money away
in a manner not very common, by-the-by, among
those "higher classes" whom they are trying to
imitate—perhaps then these aspirants for the
worship of waiters and fly-men wouId be induced
to keep their surplus capital to themselves, or
bestow it in some quarter where it would do
good, where it would relieve suffering, and
minister more to the wants of the receiver than
to the ostentation and vanity of the donor.

A terrible time for gratuities is at hand.
About the end of December there are many eyes
which we must evade, or else be provided with
a half-crown, or perhaps even two of those coins,
with which to satisfy the rapacity of those
hungry and devouring orbs. How many are
there who would gladly compound for a guinea
subscription at Christmas-time if it emancipated
them from the Christinas-box extortions! How
many guineas might be thus collected—for it is
a good and fit season for largess—and given to
some good and noble object: to the hospital
for convalescents, for incurables, or any equally
excellent charity.  Where  will those guineas go
as it is?  A very large per-centage will go to
the public-house.  The fumes of liquor will rise
as the incense of our annaul festival.  The
shoults of drunken men, which those who live
near a public-house will own are familar sounds
at Christmas-time, will be mingled with the
cries of the women and children who suffer under
the violence which the drink inspires, and both
will go up to the skies a joyful testimony to the
good effects of our Christmas bounty.

DRIFT.

THE CITY IN ARMS.

IN the year 1312, during the apprehension
touching the quarrels between the king and the
barons, the mayor and aldermen of the city of
London supported the king's side, with unusual
precaution and alacrity, in providing against
any surprise of the metropolis by the insurgent
nobles. Each alderman agreed to assemble the
best and wisest men of his ward in his parish
church, or elsewhere, to survey all the hostels
for strangers or suspicious persons, and all hosts
and herbergeours were to be warned not to
receive any one unless they will answer for the
deeds and trespasses of their guests. Written
accounts of these inspections were to be taken
by the aldermen. Inhabitants were to answer
for the persons of their "meisnee" (menu). The
City gates were to be watched according to
special instructions from the mayor. Each
alderman was to return to the mayor the names
of those fit in his ward for duties on horse or
foot. Any earl or baron wishing to enter the
City may do so, unattended by horses and arms,
there being no suspicion of mischief against
him. The gates and portcullises to be repaired,
gates to be chained within and without with a
double chain, walls to be repaired, ditches round
the walls cleansed and deepened, all the barbicans
to be repaired. All the quays and gates towards
the Thames, such as Stone-wharf, Billings-gate,
Rederes-gate, Oyster-gate, Ebbe-gate, Dow-gate,
Water-gate, Queenhithe, Stone-gate, and Water-
gate, at Castle Baynard, and all the quays of the
"bones gentz," to be strongly palisadoed and
chained, and all the lanes leading to the waterside
to be strongly chained.

Six strong, vigorous, and valiant men at each
gate, well armed, to keep a look-out upon all
who enter or quit the City. Great gates to be
shut at sunset. Wickets to remain open until
curfew shall have been rung at St. Martin's-le-
Grand, and then to be kept closed during the
night, until the ringing of the bell of St.
Thomas of Acres, the wickets then to be opened
until sunrise, and the great gates opened at
sunrise. Every night one or two hundred men, well
armed, to patrol the City to keep the peace, and
two strong boats, well manned, to ply on the
Thames every night, for the same purpose. All
householders in the ward, and all lodgers and
inmates who maintain themselves, as well clerks
as laymen, to be assessed at the rate of one